The Hunter in the Dark
868 Words
Elara didn't have time to react.
The creature moved with an unnatural rapidity, its shape a fluid blur of blackness. The only solidity to its form were its claws—long and hook-like, shining like obsidian in the moonlight—and its wide maw, full of jagged, uneven rows of teeth. It was not human. It was not Lycan. It was something else. Something that shouldn't be.
It charged at her.
Move.
But her body locked up, muscles frozen in place as if the air itself had solidified into stone. She was unable to move but watched as the creature approached her, eyes blazing like hot coals in a dying flame.
"Elara, move!" Maren's voice cut through the haze, breaking the unseen grip terror had on her.
At the very least, she threw herself back. The claws of the monster cut through where she was a heartbeat earlier. Its blow caused dust and leaves to churn around her.
Its head canted. It sniffed heavily.
And then it spoke.
"Elara Nightbane."
Her name slipped off its mouth like something wicked. Its voice was like a grinding stone. Hard, unnatural, each syllable cutting into her bones.
It recognizes me.
A shiver went up her spine. This wasn't some stupid animal. It had been sent for her.
"You were supposed to be dead."
A slow, cruel smile spread itself over its deformed face, showing more of its broken teeth.
Something within her snapped at the words.
A threat. A warning. A promise.
Then it moved again, so quickly that she didn't even see it coming.
Before it could get to her—
A snarl ripped through the night.
A gilding of golden flames slammed into the creature, sending it aside from Elara in a tempestuous crash of flesh and naked power. The earth shook under their impact as they hit the ground, claws, and limbs entwined in a wild fight.
Thorne.
His injuries didn't impede him, the blood still congealing his skin as he pushed through the underbrush with the sinuous ease of a predator, his golden eyes burning with rage. His body coiled with raw power as he struggled with the creature, their limbs interlocked in a fight for supremacy.
"Elara, run!" he snarled, his voice hoarse.
But she didn't budge.
She couldn't.
A fire had been lit in her blood, a savage, a feral one. An alien desire encircled her muscles, planting her feet firmly on the ground.
She wasn't supposed to flee.
Something in her told her that this—that this place, this fight—was part of something larger.
Thorne clamped his jaws shut as the creature swiped, the claws ripping against his chest. Blood sprayed the mud, dark and shiny. He gritted out in pain, his body sagging forward for a half-second.
The creature saw its opportunity.
It rolled, driving him into the dirt with inhuman power. Its claws pressed the sides of his throat, holding him down.
Elara's breath caught.
No.
Something low and rough sounded from the back of her throat.
A growl.
Everything outside of her changed.
The rain, the trees, the night wind-it all snapped into the achingly clear definition as if her senses had just been snapped open. She heard everything: ragged gasps of the beast, the slamming of Thorne's heart, the soft scuffle of something moving in the distance.
And then-
She reacted.
Her body pushed forward in front of her mind.
She lashed out at the monster with supernatural strength, her hands rising to wrap around it, hold it, her fingers burrowing into its flesh. The moment their skin touched—
A shock ran through her.
Pain. Fire. Images.
A flaming castle.
Fire crawling through old stone cries in the darkness.
A man with silver eyes, his face scrunched in torment, stretching out to her.
A dark figure, lost in the shadows, the voice whispering, She is ours now.
The visions hit her, too many, too fast.
Elara gasped and stepped back, her head throbbing.
The monster convulsed as if slapped.
For the first time, its face changed—from smug self-satisfaction to discomfort.
"Ah…" It released a slow, rattling breath. "So it's true. You are waking."
Waking?
Elara had no time at all to process its words before the monster hissed and disappeared.
Just disappeared, blurring into the shadows as if it had never been there in the first place.
Silence fell.
The storm, the forest, and the night all froze as though the world itself was waiting for breath.
Thorne shuddered where he knelt, his chest working. His gold eyes snapped to her, fixed and calculating.
"Not good," he grunted, sucking in a harsh breath. "Not good at all.".
Elara's fingers trembled. Her heart continued to bang against her ribcage, and her skin still stung from what had occurred.
She looked down at her fingers. They felt… different.
Strengthened.
She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but something had just changed inside of her.
Something that couldn’t be undone.
“What just happened?” she whispered.
Thorne’s gaze lingered on her, unreadable.
And then—
From deep within the woods, a howl rose into the night.
Not one. Not two.
A whole pack.
They were coming.
- Writer
